The Climb
by Jaegerbomb612
Summary: When a foreign wizard shows up to represent Harry in front of the Wizengamot, Harry is taken on a thrill ride of epic proportions. He must make decisions that will shape the future of the world. His largest obstacle, the newly reborn Lord Voldemort, who has begun to take a different approach to dealing with Harry. His 5th year at Hogwarts might just be his most interesting so far.


_**Disclaimer:**_ _I am not J.K. Rowling, and i do not own Harry Potter. That is owned by her and her various publishers. I am simply some guy who wanted to see what he could do in the world Harry Potter._

I accept both creative criticism and normal criticism. Please read and review.

* * *

 _ **Prologue**_

"Quick, Harry," said Mr. Weasley as the lift doors rattled open, and they sped up a corridor that was quite different from those above. The walls were bare; there were no windows and no doors apart from a plain black one set at the very end of the corridor. Harry expected them to go through it, but instead Mr. Weasley directed him to the left, where there was an opening leading to a flight of steps.

"Down here, down here," panted Mr. Weasley, taking two steps at a time. "The lift doesn't even come down this far… _why_ they're doing it there…"

They reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to that which led to Snape's dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes. "Courtroom . . . ten . . . I think . . . we're nearly . . . yes."

Mr. Weasley stumbled to a halt outside a grimy dark door with an immense iron lock and slumped against the wall, clutching at a stitch in his chest.

"Go on," he panted, pointing his thumb at the door. "Get in there."

"Aren't — aren't you coming with — ?"

"No, no, I'm not allowed. Good luck!"

Harry's heart was beating a violent tattoo against his Adam's apple. He swallowed hard, turned the heavy iron door handle, and stepped inside the courtroom.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Harry gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon he had entered was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before: This was the place he had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry an ominous silence fell.

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.

"You're late."

"Sorry," said Harry nervously. "I-I didn't know the time had changed."

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice. "An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat."

Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the center of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor.

"If it's all the same to you i'd rather stand."

"Do as you wish, but know that there is a squad of elite aurors on standby should you choose to run."

Feeling rather sick he looked up at the people seated at the bench above.

There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the left hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity.

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed too with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Harry. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair sat on Fudge's left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudge's right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow.

"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present — finally — let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice Harry knew. Ron's brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley —"

"— Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who turned his head so fast he cricked his neck.

Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.

A powerful emotion had risen in Harry's chest at the sight of Dumbledore, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave him. He wanted to catch Dumbledore's eye, but Dumbledore was not looking his way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge.

"Ah," said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. "Dumbledore. Yes. You — er — got our — er — message that the time and — er — place of the hearing had been changed, then?"

"I must have missed it," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."

"Yes — well — I suppose we'll need another chair — I — Weasley, could you — ?"

The witch sitting on Fudge's right leaned over and whispered something into his ear and suddenly his face went from flustered to a prize winning smile."

"Ah, Dumbledore, unfortunately you cannot represent Mr. Potter in this trial. With your position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, you must preside over all trials, but are unable to defend a suspect. You understand of course that this decision was put in place to prevent the abuse of power."

A brief moment of fear burst through Harry when he realized that Dumbledore would not be able to help him and his outwards appearance slowly began to change. His eyes darted around the room, before he calmed himself. Sirius had said that confidence was one of the most important things in a trial like this.

" In that case I would like to call for a quick recess which i could use to gather my things and put on my purple robes."

"Dumbledore! We haven't even finished reading off the charges yet!" Shouted an irate Fudge.

"Then this is the perfect time for a recess as we have not truly begun." Dumbledore replied. He then quickly turned around and approached Harry as the Wizengamot members began to move about and converse over what just happened.

"Don't worry Harry, Although I was not prepared for this, I think we may just be able to spin this in our favor." Dumbledore said quietly.

"How are you going to get a new defense attorney in the 10 minute break, that's not enough time. I need help out here, I'm no lawyer." Harry whispered back

. "Have you been reading up on law Harry?"

"Hermione thought it was dumb to go in here with to clue as to what was going on, and the Black family library has many books on the Wizengamot. Once we started I realized how nice it would be to have the skills to convince someone of anything, like Chester Nott did in the case of Nott VS the Kenyan Dragon Preserve."

"I applaud your efforts Harry, a silver tongue is a very useful tool in all aspects of life, but as to your original question. There are a lot of people who owe me favors, and this is the perfect chance to cash one in."

With that Dumbledore strode out of the courtroom without looking back. Harry took a step towards the door and the aurors guarding the exit began to reach for their wands. Understanding the situation Harry backed up against the round wall of the chamber and began to wait for whatever miracle Dumbledore would whip up in the remaining, Harry checked his watch, six minutes.

* * *

No pairing has been decided as of yet. I have big plans for this story, and I think it will go far.


End file.
